“It is sometimes given to us, this lovely emptiness, and then the Holy Spirit can fill it . . . .” Madeleine L’Engle
. . . and it happens, too,
when words upon the printed page
fall into place,
and fit the moment and the heart
and, by undivided Grace,
what lies within,
what lies without,
converges into deepest sight.
In this depth
and breadth and height,
the outworn self evaporates.
Its hidden fears
and petty hatreds all abate.
For across that lovely emptiness,
the Voice behind all voices sings,
beckons us, and flings
His joyful laughter up
against the gates of Paradise
and, for a moment,
swings them wide once more.
The Realities of Empire (ft. Nathan Pinkoski)
In this episode, Nathan Pinkoski joins R. R. Reno on The Editor’s Desk to talk about his…
Can Liberals Be Pronatalists?
Last year the United Nations Population Division predicted that global population will peak in approximately sixty years,…
From Little Rock to Minneapolis
Recent reports and images from Minneapolis reminded me of Little Rock in 1957, where attempts were made…